A Legend of Time
by Felix-RaAk
Summary: When Ranma defeats Happossai, he is faced with a challenge he cannot hope to overcome - he has to forget everyone he knows because they have forgotten him. As his journey to become the new master unfolds, he and Akane learn about their intertwined destiny and their mutual affection is put into question. Will they prevail?
1. Chapter 1

The young man watched his old but mortally dangerous opponent closely and desperately: His master was standing in front of him, his eyes closed and apparently gathering all of his remaining strength for one last, lethal attack that was to ensure his victory. Ranma blinked. He could no longer keep his eyes open properly as the hardships and the duration of their fight took its toll on him. Suddenly his vision blurred, and he had to take a few steps backwards to keep his balance. Fear arose in his heart like a slumbering beast, eating at his guts, fear of the imminent defeat, fear and panic.

Ranma breathed heavily and tried to focus on the little man, but the pain in his body, caused by the countless blows, shot through his limbs and cancelled any thought of fighting back. He was exhausted and wounded, blood trickling down from a deep cut on his cheek, his temple and several cuts on his arms and legs. His arms hung down motionlessly; he was unable to defend himself. A dull and painful throbbing at his side reminded him of a particularly hard kick to his ribs, and he figured a few of them were broken. He coughed up blood and spat it out, distinctly noticing some undistinguishable voices talking to him in concern.

A cynical smile crept on his lips as he looked up at the burning midsummer's sun. He had lost but he would not give up or back down. That would tarnish his pride as a martial artist. Sweat ran down from his forehead and into the cut on his cheek, but he could no longer feel the pain. He felt nothing and he cared for nothing. The world around him was on fire, his lungs were on fire, and he breathed that fire. One step. He took one step towards his master. And another. And then his legs gave in under him.

He fell to the ground, his knees hitting the scorched grass with a thud, so that tiny clouds of dust danced around him, cheering at his defeat. Ranma leaned on his hands, vomited from exhaustion, and made a last effort to roll over on his back, facing the glaring sun. He could not hear nor speak, even though every pore of his very being seemed to silently scream out his defeat into the world as the dark sun cast a reproachful cloud over the people. Before loosing his consciousness, he opened his eyes one last time and saw that Akane bent over him. Her mouth moved relentlessly but her words did not reach him. All that he noticed was the smile on her tear-streaked face. And he smiled, too, smiled away his pain and his defeat into the darkness of his sleep.

Grimacing in pain, Ranma awoke from his restless slumber and looked down at himself. Even in the sparse, silver light of the moon, he could see the bandages on his arms, legs and upper body shining like trophies of his defeat. Despite his feeling of bitter disappointment, the young man was still thankful for the loving care he had received after he had passed out. A trickle of cold water ran down his forehead from the wet washcloth. Wondering why the cloth was still this wet in the middle of the night, the martial artist grabbed it and groaned because the pain in his ribs shot through his body as he moved. As if responding to his sound, Ranma perceived a soft rustling at his side and sat up, wincing.

"Ranma?"

Drowsily, a young, blue-haired girl woke from her dreams, tried to hold on to them for a moment, without knowing why she did so, finally gave up her hopeless endeavor, and looked around in order to find out what woke her up. Akane yawned, blinked a few times to get used to the darkness, rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes, and cocked her head, realizing that her fiancé was indeed sitting, thus awake, and looking at her; or at least she believed that he was looking at her, as she could not see his face.

"You awake?" She murmured sleepily.

He gave no answer. The unbearable silence that followed her question rang in her ears and spread throughout the room, filled its corners and erected an invisible wall that separated the two adolescents, not physically but emotionally, from each other. Akane did not push it. She waited, waited for him to speak to her, and almost gave up hope, when she suddenly heard his low, youthful voice.

"Was that you?"

"Why? Did I do something wrong?" She asked nervously, fidgeting with the bandages and adding, "I should have let Kasumi do it."

"Nah, it's alright," he whispered drearily. "Just wanted to know. What're you doing here?"

Akane brushed a strand of her beautiful hair behind her ear and slid a little closer to the young man, who was sitting on the floor beside her.

"You were pretty battered after the battle. I've never seen you like that, so I just wanted to make sure that the injuries weren't serious," she told him, and added with a smile, "besides, I wanted to be the first to congratulate you."

Ranma looked at the silhouette of his fiancée, her face hidden by the darkness of the room, and wondered why she was so nice to him all of a sudden. They had always fought, right from the beginning when their parents had arranged for them to be engaged to each other against their will until the very end. The end. The cursed springs, where she had disappeared in front of his eyes, where she had nearly died because of him, because he had not been strong enough to protect her. The memories of those hours still haunted him, although he would never admit to it. This incident was the reason that he had decided to leave his home after the failed wedding and go on an extended training trip with Cologne. He wanted to become stronger – to protect her.

"Congratulate?" He snorted sarcastically as her words hit him. "What for? That I was able to hold my ground against the old pervert? After months and months of training? Or that I fought well? Or that he beat me? Why would you congratulate me?"

"No, you idiot," she hissed furiously and jumped to her feet, her quick temper gaining the upper hand. "I wanted to congratulate you on your victory, but I forgot that I'm dealing with the great Ranma Saotome, who can just up and leave for months – for months! – without a single word and come back and display that kind of attitude!"

"What's your deal? I had to train myself to become stronger," he retorted angrily, trying to get up as quickly as Akane but failing due to his numerous and painful injuries. "You know, there I thought you'd become a little nicer over time, but I guess I was wrong, you…"

"Tomboy?" She suggested, disregarding that he had cut himself off in mid-sentence and was now staring at her, dumbfounded. "Well, I'm sorry that I'm not as cute as Shampoo or as nice as Ukyo! I guess all the worrying was for nothing. You're back safe and sound and as macho as ever."

"What do you mean by 'victory'?" he asked, completely ignoring her tirade.

"What? What could I possibly mean by victory?" she asked rhetorically, arms akimbo. "Don't act like you're even more of an idiot than I already think you are! By the time you passed out, Happossai had already lost consciousness. You won. And guess what: that's the definition of victory. And don't you dare think I'm done with you!"

Even though the young woman believed that she was not yet done scolding the arrogant whippersnapper, she effectively became silent just a moment later. Overcome with joy and emotions due to the news of his victory, Ranma acted without thinking and embraced the girl passionately. His hands on her back pressed her body close to his, and he could feel her hot breath on his naked shoulder. Her hair smelled like the distant remembrances of summers past, and her fragile form felt right in his arms. For a moment, he indulged in this feeling, before he realized what he was doing and whom he was hugging. Quickly he wanted to let go of her, as two small hands encircled his body.

At first, Akane could not move. She simply stood there, at a loss for words, her anger vanishing into thin air, when she felt the embrace of her martial artist. It was not anger or the bodily contact that left her arms dangling uselessly at her sides – after all the time she had spent with Ranma, after the all the compromising situations and positions in which she had found herself with him, after all that had happened she had found herself to trust the young man completely so that he became the first and only man that was actually allowed to touch her – but the open display of affection that surprised her. Her heart began to race, and she was thankful for the darkness that hid her blush as his hands held her close to him. Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, and she could feel both his naked flesh and the bandages. She felt comfortable, secure; however, this feeling ceased when Ranma let her go, leaving a yearning in her heart that she re-filled by shyly placing her hands on his back, thereby prolonging the embrace.

"Welcome home."

Even though both of the young adults had not rested well, neither of them felt fatigued. For the first time in months, they talked to each other, talked about his training, talked about school, talked about what he had missed, what had happened during the time he was gone. None of that, however, was important to the engaged couple, who simply felt at home again in the presence of the other. The hours flew by in a haze of words and colors, when the stars made way to dawn and the first rays of sunlight that crashed through the window and filled the room with its presence. When the sunlight reached Ranma, who was still sitting on the floor with Akane, he suddenly stood up and stretched extensively, moving as smoothly as ever despite his injuries.

"I'm hungry," he stated. "You want something, too?"

"Yeah, sure," she answered. "You know, I've been practicing with Kasumi. I could whip up a little something."

The young man involuntarily flinched, knowing all too well of what culinary creations Akane was capable. He backed away from her slowly, considering both the window and the door as possible escape routes, when he felt a hard blow to his injured shoulder that left him grimacing in pain. He looked up at the angry woman in front of him. Judging from the pain in his shoulder that was caused by a rather harmless punch, he was no match for her at the moment.

"Don't you dare!" she warned him. "I've been practicing."

"Yeah, I feared as much," he responded slowly, still trying to figure out a way to escape. "Do you feel no pity for the weak?"

"You idiot!" she yelled at him. "At least try it before you insult it."

"I've tried it," he defended himself, "over and over again, and it's never been any good. Hell, I'd rather fight Happossai again than eat your cooking."

"Jerk!" she punched his shoulder again, harder than the last time as her temper rose again, but still aware of his condition. "Okay, if you don't want it, it's your loss. At least there are some people who appreciate my kindness."

"Like who?" Ranma asked seemingly nonchalantly.

"Like, I don't know, Ryoga?" she stated coldly, turned around and had to start grinning as she heard a low growl – hook, line, and sinker. "What? He likes it."

"Yeah, pig-boy loves it," the martial artist said and reluctantly followed her. "Maybe we can, you know, do it together?"

"Well, of course," she beamed at him. "How's the shoulder?"

"Tomboy!"

When the two adolescents walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen, no other inhabitant of the usually vivid household was to be seen. Assuming that all of their relatives were still asleep, Akane began preparing what she thought were the right ingredients to making a traditional breakfast, while Ranma leaned against the table to relieve the pressure on his stiff muscles in his legs. He watched her efforts with a smile. He had to admit that she was trying.

"By the way," she told him while he gently corrected her attempt to cook eggs in the microwave oven, "when Happossai regained his consciousness yesterday, he told me to tell you to go meet him in the training hall as soon as you're awake."

"What?" Ranma exclaimed indignantly, simultaneously sensing an opportunity to walk away from a certainly painful experience. "Why the heck didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I just remembered," she defended herself, looking over her shoulder. "Plus, you were beat when you woke up. I'd rather you not go there before you've at the very least had breakfast."

"Breakfast can wait," he argued and drowned her accusations that he just wanted to skip her meal. "This is more important. You stay here; I'll be back in a bit."

The young man limped out of the kitchen and crossed the garden to the training hall. He entered cautiously, not knowing what to expect, and was surprised. The hall, which was usually filled with sunlight due to the permeable screen-windows, was dimmed by heavy, red, silk curtains, veiling the sight of the beautiful garden. When his eyes had adjusted to the dimmed light, he saw an apparently ancient stone altar standing in the middle of the hall, adorned with a clay pot that featured unfamiliar runes and two incense candles that gave off a strange but familiar smell.

Cologne sat behind the altar and intonated a gloomy and unintelligible chant that gave Ranma the creeps. Her voice was amplified by the wooden walls and echoed throughout the hall as if a thousand voices hummed the eerie tone. Then, the old witch stopped her murmuring. Smoke erupted from the pot, clouding his vision, and a strong smell of musk and other exotic spices stunned Ranma's senses. He got dizzy, went numb, fell to the floor and watched the woman fascinated, his whole being rid of the pain and fatigue of the battle.

"Thank you, Cologne," a powerful voice rang from the depths of the white smoke that revealed but the outline of the old man.

"You are welcome, Happi," the old woman answered solemnly and joined her old companion. "It was a quite arduous procedure, but I agree with you: It is necessary."

"What's going on?" Ranma asked quietly, his senses still veiled by the intense smell. "Why did you ask me to come here? What do you want?"

"I have stood undefeated for 270 years," Happossai told him tiredly and stepped closer to the young man, so that he could see the countless bruises all over his body. "I have defeated creatures the like you have never seen, called myself the strongest, and accepted every challenges. Never in my wildest dreams have I imagined that you could defeat me in a real fight, but I was wrong."

"And that is why you, young one, will bear our burden from now on," Cologne added thoughtfully. "You will become the new master, the new bearer, after you have proven your worth to us."

"I'm all set," he interrupted. "I've defeated Happossai, so I'm all set to go. Come on. The longer I sit here, the longer it'll take me."

"Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks," the former master of the school sighed deeply, "do not matter. To relief us of our burden, you will have to perform a task that will not be accomplished easily, a task that only the strongest, the most willing and determined fighters can perform, because only nine masters hold the keys, only nine masters are allowed to hand down our art, and Cologne and I are two of them. Listen, boy, because this will be the last time you will see and hear us. We will leave. Today. It will be your task to find us and defeat us, wrenching the key to our art from our hands. You will have to become stronger during your journey."

"What?" Ranma was silent for a moment, before he laughed at the two masters in disbelief. "You want me to play hide-and-seek with you? Whose moronic idea was that?"

"It is not a game," Cologne scolded him angrily, hitting him with her wooden stick so hard that the martial artist screamed in pain. "Ranma Saotome, you will become our successor. You are the only one worth taking up the title of master. Be proud of our choice. You will become one of the nine carriers."

"Well, I refuse," said Ranma, still grimacing in pain. "I'm honored that you two consider me worthy of taking your title, but I won't just leave here. What should I tell my old man? Akane?"

"That, boy," Happossai told him sternly, "is already taken care of. You seem to forget that we know you, that we know you would refuse this task, that you would refuse to leave this place, but you will have to in order to regain this place."

The young martial artist let his gaze wander from Cologne to Happossai, trying to decipher the meaning behind their words, and shook his head, when he noticed the smell of burnt herbs and spices that had been covered by the smell of musk. He had smelled this formula once before in his life, but he could not determine where due to the exotic nature of the herbs. He concentrated on the smell, watching his elders closely, but his senses were still numbed from the battle, fatigue, the herbs, and so he drifted off to the image of Akane in this very hall, her smell that seemed like remembrances of summers past, her smell. And suddenly he knew.

"No!" Panic spread through his body, making it sound more like a threat than an utterance. "No! You wouldn't dare! Who? No! Who? You dammed old geezers!"

"So you do remember," Cologne stated. "That which you have once tried to cure was done by a beginner, my own great-granddaughter. She does not know but a little of the art. This ritual is nothing like the Shiatsu technique Shampoo used on Akane. All those who reside outside this enclosed sphere of mastery, this training hall, will have forgotten you by the time you will leave. To counter it, you will have to defeat both of us, son-in-law."

A faint creak ended the conversation abruptly before Ranma could answer them. He jerked his head around in order to locate the source of the noise and met his fiancée's eyes. Akane had come into the hall to look for him. Suddenly the smoke cleared, the smell of herbs ceased to exist, and a feeling of foreboding overcame the young martial artist. He quickly turned around again and realized that Cologne and Happossai had used the short period of time to disappear. Ranma cursed and hit the ground with his bare knuckles, over and over again, until his skin tore open and blood dripped to the floor.

"Come back!" he yelled and repeated these words until his voice cracked to vent his rage.

"Ranma?"

"What?" he snapped at her, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. "Wait, you know who I am?"

Please do tell me what you think of it – and don't mince your words.


	2. Chapter 2

The young man stood up from the ground, his mind working as sharp as a razor after the effects of the smoke had cleared and the panic set in. In the blink of an eye, he passed the training hall and grabbed his fiancée's shoulders with both of his hands, desperately wanting to make sure that she was not an illusion. He prayed to all the gods he knew and all of them he did not know, hoping that one of them would grant his wish, his last hope that Cologne had not satisfactorily performed the ritual, that she had made a mistake, because the one woman he had once cured of the effects of this dreadful technique was standing in front of him in the dimly light hall with her hands covering her cherry lips so that no sound would escape them and she remembered his name. She had uttered his name. His prayer, his hope.

"Do you know who I am?" he nearly yelled at her due to his agitated state of mind and shook her, disregarding the pain, the bruises, the cuts all over his body for the time being. "Do you know my name? Do you know me? Do you remember me? Do you remember?"

Akane could not speak nor move. She felt the pain of his fingers tearing into her skin as he shook her roughly, she saw the desperation in his blue eyes that had always longed for calm and peace even though he was constantly dragged into the most disturbing situations, she sensed his raging emotions that hovered between rage, sadness, hope, and many more and she knew why. She had come to the training hall in search of the raven-haired martial artist, who had been gone a rather long time, and snuck into the hall to find out about the seemingly manifold voices that appeared to chant a ritualistic song. Having overheard their conversation, she stood there in shock, her mind racing as she tried to process all the implications at once. And then she nodded, performed a simple and almost imperceptible movement of her head, and realized that this was all he needed, that it changed his life.

"How long?" he asked, remembering Cologne's words that the ritual was restricted to an enclosed sphere. "How long have you been here?"

His clear gaze pierced through her soul, fearing the worst. She wanted to meet his eyes, but she knew that she had to disappoint his hopes. She felt the crashing and corrosive waves of the unbridled ocean in his azure eyes washing away the fire in her soul and heart. They had always been like two opposing forces of nature. He was the ever-moving and unrestricted water of the ocean that subdued everything, drowned everyone in its way, but re-shaped the old and thus created a new world like a storm raging over the sea, a sea in which she could never hope to swim, in which she could never hope to reach the shore. She was the flickering flames of fire of the sun and stars, illuminating even the darkest corners of the world, but always staying where she belonged, always in danger of being extinguished. She looked away and he knew.

"Come," he demanded, took her hand and dragged her along with him.

He swiftly crossed the garden and entered the residence with Akane in tow. Then, however, he stopped dead in his tracks and let go of the young woman's hand. Soun, his father, and Nabiki were sitting at the table, and Kasumi was serving breakfast – as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had changed. Instead of the usual greeting, though, Akane's father, who had paged through the newspaper, put the paper aside and looked at them in surprise.

"Akane," he said, "we've wondered where you'd run off to so early in the morning without your usual training gear! But I see you've taken care of a visitor. I am Soun Tendo, head of his humble household and master of the training hall. And who might you be?"

Ranma immediately froze. He wanted to speak to his future father-in-law, wanted to make him remember who he was, the heir to his form of martial arts, formed the words in his mouth, tried to utter them, but they were stuck in his throat, threatening to choke him. He could not breathe. His last hope that Cologne had make some sort of mistake burst like a bubble, leaving him nothing but the cold, hard facts of his new reality, his future. Alone. No, he realized that he was not alone when Akane took his hand in hers and squeezed it encouragingly, calming him down.

"Ranma," he croaked. "Ranma. Nice to meet you."

"Sorry, dad, he's just a little shy," Akane assured her father, quick to invent a plausible tale that would cover for his real identity. "He's a challenger and an old acquaintance I've met while on a training trip way back. I've just let him in through the backdoor."

"Oh!" all of the inhabitants of the residence exclaimed simultaneously, each of them for their own reason.

"I'll go set the table for a new guest," Kasumi followed up her exclamation in delight.

"I wonder how she does it," Nabiki muttered under her breath, noticing her holding his hand, and instantly remembering all her younger sister's suitors.

"Let's see how good that boy is," Genma said to his old friend while he stood up and stretched, who still wondered on which training trip his baby daughter had met this young man, and whether he had behaved properly. "I haven't had a good workout in ages!"

Ranma remained exactly where he was, torn between running away to escape this horrifying situation of being presented to people he had known for years and beating his father to a pulp in order to give vent to his feelings. He felt humiliated, desperate, and clueless. Seeking her advice, the young man turned to Akane.

"Wait," she interrupted the cacophony of voices that attempted to take a hold of the new situation regarding the two adolescents as badly as the two young martial artists themselves, realizing that her friend had once again found himself in a compromising situation, "just wait a second. Can't you see that he's hurt? I'll accept his challenge when his wounds are healed. Until then, he's a guest and a friend."

"Pain," Genma told them and crossed the distance to the pair in a mere second, ready to open the fight against his son by shoving him back with a strike of his right palm, "is no excuse for a martial artist!"

Before the young woman could react to the challenge and yank her fiancé out of harms way, the young man had blocked his father's attack with his left hand, grabbed his outstretched arm with his right, and catapulted the old man over his shoulder and into the garden. A short moment and a loud splash later, a fully grown and enraged panda emerged from the pond, attacking the young man, who had not moved a single inch, even more rigorously than before. This time well aware of what would happen, the young woman stepped in between the two fighters, and froze in mid-movement – just like the current animal. The overwhelmingly powerful presence of the raven-haired martial artist's fighting spirit had leashed out to them, making them, as fellow martial artists, aware of their position in the face of their master.

"That's enough," Ranma whispered, not even once looking at the panda or anyone else, while Soun, who had also noticed his power, frowned at the young man. "I'll be leaving now."

Akane jogged through the streets of the small suburb of Tokyo in order to find her elusive fiancé, who had left the Tendo residence without a single word while they were all still in shock due to his display of pure power. She passed every single place that had some sort of connection to Ranma, whether he liked a certain spot or tried to avoid it, without any success. Her heart pounded furiously because she feared that he had left her again. On her way, Akane cursed left and right, angry at the young man and simultaneously worried about him as he was all alone; just like her. She turned at a corner, and suddenly she saw him. He was sitting on a handrail at the entrance of a playground. Her heart skipped a beat, as she realized that it was the same playground in front of which he had waited for her on Christmas Eve. She smiled, as she approached him.

"Ranma," she whispered worriedly.

"What took you so long?" he asked, and Akane, who half-expected his usual cocky grin, was taken completely by surprise as she saw his pained smile that she realized he would not show to anyone except herself because she was the only person left on earth that knew him. Just a second later, leaving the young woman with the impression that she had but imagined his unusual expression, Ranma stood up from the handrail and walked closer to her. "You know I have to go."

"Why can't you just tell them what happened?" she asked. "All of us know how crazy Happossai can be at times."

"Yeah, that'll solve all my problems," he sneered at her. "Hey, old man, how're you doing? By the way, I'm your son. You just happened to forget all about me. And guess what? I've been living here for years; you've just all forgotten about it! What good did that do to you when you forgot about me?"

"Well, yeah, okay," she nodded determinedly, having already made up her mind to support him whichever way he was to go, "if you really want to chase those two, fine by me, but you won't be on your own."

"I will," he rejected her implied offer forcefully. "What do you think I meant when I said I have to go? It's way too dangerous for you!"

"So you think I can't compete with you? That I'll slow you down?" she asked heatedly, her temper gaining the upper hand once again. "I'm so sorry that I'm not as strong as Shampoo!"

"Shampoo!" he exclaimed, cutting her off, a glimmer of hope appearing in his eyes that had held but despair and sadness a second ago. "You're genius! I gotta go find Shampoo!"

Ranma felt elated. The devastation that was caused by the fact that he was sure that he had to leave what he considered to be his home for an extended period of time, the first time in his life that he considered a place to be actually his home, the devastation that filled his heart with pitch black shadows that not even the distant flames of emotions could erase, as they were the cause of the figures on the wall of his inmost desires, the devastation that had him nearly give up vanished into thin air when Akane mentioned the witch's great-granddaughter – a surefire way to find the old hag quickly, he assumed. His plan formed in his mind, he wanted to take the female martial artist with him to the Chinese restaurant when he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his left cheek.

She could not help it, she could not think it through properly because she was furious. The raging fire in her breast ate away at her senses as she heard him speak of Shampoo in exhilaration, fuelling the same dark shadows of rage in her heart that danced along its walls and taunted her, daring to extinguish the fire, so that they would vanish, along with her emotions, into the darkness of hatred. She reacted instinctively, thinking that he had chosen his other fiancée over her, because she was stronger, more reliable, cuter. She slapped him across his face and turned around, stomping away from him and towards her home.

"And there I was actually worried about you," she yelled furiously. "Go see Shampoo if she's that important to you!"

"It's not like that!" he argued, hesitantly following her because he was torn between letting her storm off, as his pride demanded of him, and wanting to clear up this misunderstanding. "Shampoo can help me find the old hag!"

"Yeah, and I can't," she answered, stopping for a second and turning around to face him.

"How would you help me?" he asked her and was met with her cold glare that sent shivers down his spine.

"How could the only person who knows you in this world possibly be of any help to you?" she sneered at him, cutting off his attempt at an explanation immediately. "Leave. Go! Go to Shampoo! See if she's still there with her great-grandmother gone and you not on her mind anymore. Leave, for Pete's sake, and don't come back. Find Shampoo, be happy with her for all I care. I hate you!"

Ranma sat down on a trunk amidst the thicket of the woods close to his former home and placed his huge backpack next to him on the ground. He was still fuming. After everything that had happened, after all the tragedy that had befallen them, after he had almost married her, she went and said the words that she knew would hurt him the most. I hate you. The words still rung in his ears, and had clouded his judgment: He had let her go home, had followed her in a safe distance, had packed his belongings, and had taken off to find the blue-haired Amazon without a further word to Akane, without even acknowledging her presence in the household that he had felt flaring. He had searched for Shampoo at her restaurant, but it had already been abandoned. So he had left, gone towards the ocean, towards travelling to China because that was his only clue, his only choice to regain everything that he had lost, his only chance to make them remember him, to make them remember their promises.

"You idiot," he cursed, hitting the ground with his bare fist. "You damn idiot!"

"Hitting ground no make things better."

Ranma jerked his head around at the sound of the all too familiar voice. He was surprised and partly started because he had not noticed her presence, even though her fighting spirit was a force to be reckoned. Mentally scolding himself, he watched her approaching him from the exact way he had taken. The blue-haired Amazon winded her well-formed body, which was covered by a simple, red Chinese dress that further accentuated her alluring curves and stood in stark contrast to her voluminous, luxurious hair, smoothly through the undergrowth without touching any branch or twisting any twig beneath her feet. Her movements, just like her whole being, displayed pure grace, ease and radiant beauty. He had never seen her like that. In fact, he had never noticed just how good of a martial artist she really was, just how much of a woman she really was because he had always tried to avoid her glompy self. Taking two quick and light steps, she crossed the distance between the two and bowed slightly as a form of greeting the stranger. Ranma hastily stood up from the trunk and followed suit.

"I Shampoo," she told him, sat down on the ground elegantly, and beckoned him to do the same. "Who you are? What you doing here?"

The young man abided by her unspoken wish for him to sit down next to her, repeating her movements mechanically, as he was still completely surprised by the curious turn his fate had taken. He thought that something was fishy, that Cologne and Shampoo had set him up, but he knew that girl, had known her for a long time, and yet he had never seen her so happy, so at ease, so carefree. He looked into her eyes. They were kind and dancing with mirth. She seemed to be free, freed, and she had definitely forgotten all about him. Questions started to form in his head, as he was looking at her: Did he really want to change everything back to normal? Wasn't he glad that the daily madness had eased? Why not turn around and leave it be, start a new life?

"Hello?" Shampoo waved her hand in front of his face to gain his attention. "You understand Shampoo?"

"Yeah, sorry," he laughed nervously, not sure whether to be delighted or sceptical. "I was just surprised to meet someone so deep in the woods this late. What are you doing here, Shampoo?"

"Me ask first," she said, smiling at him coyly and simultaneously sizing him up, as she noticed the muscles under his red shirt as well as his handsome features.

"Sorry," he apologized. "My name's Ranma, Ranma Saotome. I'm on a trip to China."

"Yes?" she asked surprised. "Shampoo, too! Spent long time here in Japan, away from home and friends, and finally great-grandmother allowed Shampoo to go back."

"Oh," the young man exhaled and looked up at the stars in order to keep him calm – he liked gazing into the night sky, and count the twinkling stars above his head that seemed to small and fragile and far away. "Why were you here in the first place? And where's that grandma of yours?"

"Strange, Shampoo no remember. It order from elder, but Shampoo never ask why. Great-grandmother gone, had to take care of business, but will one day come to village, she promised," the Amazon pondered about the past and looked into the vast depth of the sky as well, adding after a short pause: "Beautiful, no? Why you go to China?"

"Hm," Ranma nodded, knowing that the young girl meant the stars shining above them. "I'm looking for someone."

"Lucky someone," the woman pouted playfully.

"How'd you know?" he asked her sadly. "You don't know me. I could be an assassin."

"Shampoo no look like it, but great fighter, proud Amazon," she argued and eyed him thoroughly. "Shampoo feel fighting spirit, no feel you. You no assassin, you not strong."

For the first time, Ranma's gaze left the stars, of which he wished to be a part, because they were the only ones who had not forgotten about him, they always remained the same, they did not judge him, and he did not have to deceive them, and he looked at the blue-haired martial artist, shaking his head in utter disbelief. In response, the young woman simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged her shoulders, so that the master of his school was forced to summon his enormous spirit. Shampoo did not flinch even in the slightest, until he let his fighting aura flare uncontrollably and dangerously.

"What?" the Amazon suddenly shouted and jumped up, facing him in a defensive stance, ready to fend off his attack. "Who you are? Shampoo never feel no presence and then this strong! How come? Who you looking for?"

The young man relaxed, which caused his spirit to recede to a degree that Shampoo, too, could relax a little bit, as she could no longer feel him or his presence at all; however, the young woman remained standing in her defensive position, still ready to take an attack from the unknown but powerful enemy. She eyed him carefully, weighing her options, and finally sat back down next to him. Again, Ranma was left staring at her in disbelief, because he assumed she would at least try to force him to answer her questions.

"If I knew, Shampoo," he spoke to her, "I'd be one step closer to understanding what is happening. I don't know why you couldn't sense my presence. Why didn't you run away or fight me?"

"Shampoo learn many things in Japan and know when outclassed," she told him sincerely, looking back up at the stars. "You search for Cologne, no?"

"How'd you?"

"Shampoo no idiot," she interrupted his stumbling with a smile. "Shampoo able to put two and two together. Great-grandmother leave in a hurry, tell Shampoo to go back to village by foot; now Shampoo meet powerful man travel to China on foot. Shampoo think Cologne know we meet."

"That cunning old hag," Ranma cursed.

"Good thing," Shampoo assured him, placing her hand on his shoulder as she stood up, thus making him look at her. "Shampoo lead you to village, yes? Cologne be there someday."

"Why'd you do that?" he asked her, suspicious of her offer.

"You strong, you teach Shampoo," she said, "to be strong to beat stupid conceited elders at village. Shampoo hate them, but not strong enough to beat them. Win-win, no?"

"Hm," Ranma grunted.

At the outskirts of one of the many suburbs of Tokyo, a small and old wooden bridge upheld the traditions of Japan, fending off the bright lights and deafening noise of the lively metropolis which grasp did not yet reach into every corner of the people's lives. Instead, every single person walking on this bridge that connected the old and the new, combined the natural with the artificial, could hear the soft sighs of the rustlings trees in the breeze of a warm summer's night that frightened the wild animals taking shelter in the woods just like the headlights of a single car crossing the bridge and illuminating the outlines of a young woman for a second.

Her feet crossed and the weight of her body balanced on the ball of her left foot solely, she leaned her arms against the railing and stared into the pitch-black sky, counting the stars that seemed to mirror the distant lights of Japan's capital. The quiet river that passed beneath her feet under the bridge was an oasis of calm, soothing the raging emotions in her heart in the solitude of the night. She paid no attention to her hair that was caught in the breeze and seemed to flicker like a candle in the wind. A single, woebegone sigh escaped her lips and joined the sound of the trees that the wind carried away to distant shores. She closed her eyes, and a single pearl hit the surface of the river, caused an insignificant ripple that would soon be lost in the stream of time. The young woman turned around and sat down on the bridge, her back leaning against the railing for support. She stifled a sob, and buried her head in her arms.

"Akane?"

The cautiously, quietly uttered word seemed to be nothing more but a further sigh in the wind, carried to her ears as a response to her silent suffering, but caused her to look up nevertheless. Her oldest sister kneeled beside her, taking her tear-streaked face into her palm and embracing her baby sister, who shook with suppressed sobs, tenderly. Akane buried her face into her sister's shoulder, one hot diamond pearling from her cheek into her sister's white blouse after another. She wanted to forget him, wanted to erase him from his memories like all the other people had been forced to do, but even the thought of forgetting him caused her to remember every single thing she knew about him. A thousand memories flourished in her heart, a thousand new thoughts that all centered on him, like a rose in full bloom that seemed to grow wildly until it reached the stars – and with every inch it grew, a new thorn pierced into her heart. She cried, and her sister let her cry.

"What happened?" Kasumi asked after a few moments, when she realized that Akane had calmed down a little. "We were worried about you."

"He's gone," she whispered, repeating the sentence over and over again. "He's gone. He's gone."

"Ranma?" the brown-haired woman asked cautiously, and rubbed her sister's back as she nodded, having anticipated her answer as she had never seen her sister this casual with a boy before. "Don't worry, Akane, dear. You've just met him again today and I'm sure you'll see him again sometime soon."

"No," she winced and separated from the loving embrace for the first time, looking directly into her sister's eyes. "No, I haven't and I won't. He's gone, for good."

For a second that seemed to last forever, Kasumi tore her gaze away from Akane's eyes and diverted it towards the stars that seemed to be twinkling back in return to her unspoken question. She smiled sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. It was time. She knew, but Akane did not know yet. Her hands found Akane's shoulders and she grasped them determinedly, smiling at her sister. Her heart ached at the thought of what she was about to say, what she was about the cause, what she knew was the right thing to do, yet the worst thing to do with regard to what she considered to be her family.

"Akane," she said softly, "I want you to be happy. I know you, I've known you for so long now. You deserve to be happy, and I know what you will have to do to find your own happiness. Please don't forget that we will always be waiting for you right here. This will always be your home."

"What are you talking about?" the young girl asked confusedly.

"I have never seen you be so at ease with a boy," she told her. "I have never seen you so behave so passionately, I have never seen you so feel so devastated in my life. You love him."

"No!" she yelled, blushing crimson but involuntarily remembering all the sunny days she had spent with him, all the days on which they had run to school together, he on the fence and she on the ground, two separate beings yet inseparable, she remembered their everyday-struggle to fend off Happossai and his craziness, she remembered how angry she was at Ukyo and Shampoo because they were able to show their affection for her fiancé so openly, she could see him before her inner eye, standing beside her in his suit, crying for her in China. She felt her heart beating for him and for him alone, a feeling she had always felt when they had been together but which she had never dared to realize.

"No?" her sister asked her with a smile. "No, you are right, Akane. We are sitting here on a bridge, you've been crying and I've been comforting you because of an old acquaintance, whom you had not seen in years and who has now left."

"No," Akane smiled. For the first time since he had left, she smiled and felt her heart beating more quickly than ever before in her life when she gave her sister a quick peck on the cheek. "No, you're right. I know this is my home, that you will always be my home and I promise that I'll be back someday. Tell them that I love them and that I'll miss them. Thank you."

Kasumi watched her younger sister jump up and run towards their home; she, however, remained sitting on the bridge for some minutes, looking up at the sky and the stars. She thought about what to tell her dad, until she felt a rather cold breeze washing away over her. She stood up quickly and hurried home.

"This should have given her enough time to sneak out," she talked to herself, staring at the stars one last time. "And you'd better guide her on her search. You owe her! She's done so much for you."


	3. Chapter 3

The brisk air that accompanied the early, dewy morning encircled the young couple. Their bodies seemed to dance joyfully with each other in the cold autumn day and radiated heat as naked flesh touched naked flesh amidst the seemingly endless woodlands through which they journeyed together. The proud Amazon panted heavily, sweat pouring down her face and drenching her tight dress, while she took a short break to gather her remaining strength and focus. If only she had her weapons, she would be a much tougher opponent for the young man, but he had told her to rely on her own body, on her own strength, on her own focus, and discard the weapons that threw her off balance, making her an easy target.

She watched him closely, his casual stance that apparently stood in stark contrast to the concentrated look on his face, but gave him an invaluable advantage to be able to adapt to any situation more quickly than anybody else, his inviting smile that seemed arrogant but simply expressed his joy at sparring with her, his slightly raised arms that were ready to fend off any attack if necessary. Shampoo heard his voice inside her, his advice, and she began to feel his elusive presence as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Suddenly, a thought popped into her mind: He was like the forces of nature and his presence blended with them. He was swift and unpredictable like the wind, his movements were fluid as the sea, his strength shattering like the earth and his free, iron will unbridled like a fire raging inside him.

Concentrating on his very being that seemed to be the embodiment of nature, the young woman began to feel the fighter in front of her, began to sense her surroundings. She smiled, and then she opened her eyes wide, bent her knees lightly and sprung forward, closing the distance between them in a mere second. Feinting left, she attacked him with a right punch to his face. Her movements were so quick that Ranma could not dodge. He blocked, impressed at her speed and for a second, their faces but inches apart, she grinned at him. Using the momentum from the blocked punch, she spun around, and tried to sweep his legs with a low kick. Sensing her intention, the young master jumped into the air to avoid her kick, noticing too late that she had predicted his movements to the latter. He had nowhere to run, while Shampoo completed her spin. She used her speed to jump up into the air and perform a spinning kick that connected to his right forearm with which he blocked. She grinned.

"My turn," he responded to her grin, and grabbed her leg with his left hand in mid-air. Releasing his fighting aura to the fullest, Ranma held her leg tightly while lowering his right arm. Shampoo watched horrified as she felt his intimidating presence and saw him flexing his right biceps and clenching his fist, ready to draw her to him and deliver a fierce hit. The Amazon shrieked and tried to cower away from him while she shielded her face with her arms. She waited for the punch, and waited, and hit the ground hard.

The blue-haired adolescent lowered her arms and looked up at her teacher from her position on the ground. She remained sitting where she had bumped into the ground and simply watched him in surprise and terror. He was calmly standing in the middle of the glade they had used as a camping ground the night before, faintly smiling at her and completely at ease with himself and nature, their presence becoming one, but she still felt the horror of his enormous power, his lust for power, his lust for life and his lust to win, no matter the consequences, even if it meant killing somebody in the most extreme cases. He was a force of nature, he was the forces of nature, and she had felt him.

"Fear," he said, helping her up after a while, "is a very potent weapon and more dangerous than a blade. You're still far away from understanding what it takes to become strong."

"What you mean?" she asked him, taking his hand and standing up, their regular morning training finished for that day.

"Despair," he told her earnestly, gazing directly into her eyes and yet staring into nothingness, remembering his past encounters, his despair, his fear of losing Akane, his hardships, "and fear. You'll have to experience 'em. They'll show you what you're most afraid of and that's what makes you stronger. You'll have to conquer your own fears, and then there's nothing more to fear. No fight, no enemy."

Shampoo grumbled something incomprehensible, walked by him, grabbing her light backpack in the process, and started taking off into the direction of the ocean. Ranma followed suit, grinning at her discomposure and anger. They had made it their ritual to get up before dawn to spar so that she would hopefully be in shape to fight one of the elders when they reached her home. He did not know much of their strength except what Shampoo had told him and it seemed like she was already fit to fight them. She was good, much better that he had anticipated because she had never fought him seriously when they had faced off before.

In return, the young woman led the martial artist to her village, she lead him through the forests of Japan as quickly as possible, much more quickly than he would have made it himself. Although Ranma had spent most of his life on the road, he had always trusted in his father leading the way, and however much untrustworthy he was as a person, he was a great tracker, so that the young man profited immensely from the Chinese lead. Like an elf, the young woman danced along the narrow lanes, appearing to know each and every path that he would have never spotted.

"You better," he told her that day after a long silence in his less than accurate Chinese, so that Shampoo turned around and playfully flicked him across the forehead.

"How do you expect to be taken seriously in our village if you cannot even say a single sentence in our language?" she asked him, reminding him of his task that made her beating one of the elders seem like a breeze in comparison.

"Sorry," he apologized. "It hard and you no speak much with me. Let's try: Why you wear dress all the time?"

"I am a member of the proud Amazons," she answered before turning around again and walking off towards their destination while Ranma rather involuntarily noticed the swing in her steps, the movement of her unmistakably female hips, and her whole form, from her flowing blue hair to her naked, well-shaped legs, "and we are proud of our bodies. That is why we train them and that is why we adorn them with beautiful dresses. Plus, they are great for fighting. You want to try it out sometime?"

Ranma blushed crimson at the suggestion while simultaneously stopping dead in his tracks, thinking that she had found out about his secret that he had managed to uphold to this day, before he heard her high and clear laugh at his bewildered countenance. He shook his head and smiled. The young man liked this new attitude Shampoo displayed and he liked travelling with her. She was so carefree, so at ease with herself and him. Her whole being radiated with joy that burnt like a bright fire flooding his gloomy thoughts about his situation with pure light. He could not help to again notice her long, blue hair, her sweet smile, her large eyes, her unmistakably female curves.

They walked through the forest, walked and talked with each other about the art, about their homes, about themselves, until the sun disappeared at the horizon and the twinkling stars took its place. As the first branched burnt in their campfire after they had set up their camp for the night, sharing their heat with the two persons sitting around the fire, Ranma realized that something was bothering his companion, who was fidgeting nervously with a stick in her hand.

"What's up?"

"We're approaching the sea," she said. "Haven't you noticed?"

"I know," he said, diverting his eyes from her and staring into the fire absentmindedly, over which they had hung a kettle with water to prepare their meal for that – and coincidentally a lot of other, too – night: soup.

"You should know," she began, "that I have a problem with cold water. I know it sounds nuts but I'm cursed. I turn into a cat when I'm splashed with cold water."

"I know," the young man repeated in her language, before switching to his native tongue, and taking both his flask of drinking water and some chestnuts they had found out of his bag, as she stared at him in disbelief and growing suspicion. "I know that you turn into a c-c-cat on contact with cold water. Be silent and watch."

Ranma hesitated for a moment before he did what he hated most. He took the flask and poured some of the cold water over his head. After the hardships of the daily journey, their morning ritual, and the heat of the campfire, the small and chilly brooklets of water that curved their ways over his cheeks and dripped off his chin and onto the ground, where the drops seeped into the earth, felt almost pleasant. Simultaneously, however, it triggered the transformation. He felt the lonely agony of losing his manhood, he felt his chest grow, his hips becoming smaller and curvaceous and immediately grabbed the kettle of hot water, pouring it over him- or better herself.

"Shampoo know how Ranma feel," the Amazon told him in his tongue before Ranma could say anything. She smiled sadly and placed one hand consolingly but at the same time encouragingly on his shoulder, giving him a feeling of belonging, of togetherness that he had seldom felt before, because she did not treat him like a freak, she did not isolate him, she did not take away his humanity from him, and he was eternally grateful for it.

"Did you jump in on purpose?" she asked him with a grin, switching back to her own language and inciting him to the response she anticipated.

"Idiot," he grinned back at her, watching her sitting down next to him and staring into the fire.

"But," the young woman began hesitatingly, glancing at him briefly from the corner of her eyes, "you'll have to tell Shampoo how you know and Shampoo will not be quiet until you have told her."

Ranma looked up at the sky. The stars seemed like diamonds that shone for him exclusively and seemed to form the features of his fiancée every night before his inner eye whenever he had the chance to gaze up upon them. For the first time, however, her face was blurred and the stars seemed to lose some of their light as if they wanted to tell him something, as if they wanted to warn him. He looked up at them for some time, but her smile, her eyes, her beauty that rivaled those of the stars and was more magnificent and magical to him than anything he had ever seen in his life, remained a blur. He shook his head and smiled. He wanted to tell her, wanted to confide everything in her, because she was not Shampoo, his other fiancée, but Shampoo, the Amazon, but they had made forget for a reason.

"I'll show you," he said and reached into the fire so quickly that Shampoo was left astounded before even realizing what kind of technique he was displaying to her. One for one, he gathered the chestnuts out of the bonfire with his bare hands without burning his fingers due to the abnormal speed that she knew came from his training with Cologne. "They should be okay by now."

Shampoo did not ask him how and why he knew because she figured that he had known her great-grandmother for a long time for this to happen, and even though she speculated on the possibility of him being connected to herself in some way, she discarded the thought quickly as she was more than happy to be leaving this dreadful country and returning to her home, to her friends, to her family. She would find out eventually, when Cologne returned to their village, and she knew she could not force him to confide in her. So she let it go, but they talked to each other for the rest of the evening. She learned about her companions fear of cats, he learned of her laws and customs, and they simply indulged in each other's presence as a source of consolation, comfort and friendship.

That night, however, the two adolescents did not talk much nor did they remain sitting around the fire for as long as they usually did. They both took shelter in their sleeping bags, both lost in their own thoughts, both watching the stars and wondering what was happening to them for entirely different reasons. In that, they were joined by a third member of their journey. Far away yet closer to them that reason would suggest, a young woman was cuddled up in her improvised sleeping bag and watched the same stars like the two martial artists. They were smiling at her, guiding her the way with their endless light and comforting her on her solitary journey, and she smiled back at them. They had helped her a lot during the first days whenever she had rolled up in her provisory bed at night, exhausted from the daily walk, afraid of the darkness, afraid of the loneliness. She was not used to being alone, let alone travelling alone, but the more she had to fend for herself, the more she began to understand why the young, arrogant man loved his freedom so much and would not have it taken from him no matter the cost. She was afraid of the limitless freedom at first, but she grew to like it, to love it, to pursue it, and so she smiled at the stars, feeling like one them, free and forever remaining the same, when she spotted a shooting star, quickly closed her eyes, and wished her wish, before falling asleep.

Akane was so different from all the women she had met that it will not come to you as a surprise that her wish was also different from all of our desires. Though no one would admit to it, our hearts' truest and deepest desire is alike to all of us in some way or another: We all wish, as is our nature, for something to benefit us – love, happiness, luck, health, be it for oneself or someone we love. The young woman, however, was not interested in something from which she would profit. She was as different to all other people as the distant stars that watched over her. She wished for nothing but his happiness and safety. She wished for this and for nothing else, not that she would see him soon nor that he would be there for her but simply that he was happy and safe, wherever he was.

Two arduous days later, Ranma and Shampoo reached the shore. At the first touch of cold water, the strong, raven-haired master of his school turned into a very pretty and well-built red-haired girl, who threw her opened backpack to the ground and walked away from her companion swiftly. In the meantime, Shampoo splashed herself with cold water and turned into a cat, one of the noble and majestic animals from which the red-haired martial artist would normally flee in terror; however, the beautifully colored cat quickly hid inside the backpack and used her claws to close it. Hidden inside the cloth, the cat-ized female remained there completely soundless, as if she did not exist. Ranma knew, though, that she did in fact exist and that he or she had to carry her around on his back. Still trembling with fear and terror, the former young man grabbed his backpack and ran into the crashing waves of the ocean. She swam, and swam, driven by both her goal to reach China to find the old hag and simultaneously spurred by the constant fear of something happening to the backpack, making the cat visible.

Thus, Ranma and Shampoo swam their way to China, while Akane set over in a ferry that seemed to take forever. Nevertheless, she arrived at the shores of China earlier than her contestants, the young heir to her father's school took almost a month longer to reach the Amazon's village, given that she could speak next to no Chinese and had no idea where she was, whereas Shampoo led Ranma directly to her home.

One late-autumn day, a young woman stumbled out of the forest near the Amazon village completely exhaustedly, and gazed smiling into the cloudless sky until her eyes could no longer bear the bright light of the sun she had missed so much and for so long in this dark forest. Relieved to have finally found her way out of the maze of trees, she took a deep breath and felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. Only then did she look down on herself and had to smile involuntarily. The numerous small cuts, scratches, abrasions and bruises all over her legs and arms were clearly visible through her clothing that was cut and torn in many places, and those parts that were still okay, reeked terrible, so that Akane wrinkled her nose and wondered when she had taken a bath the last time.

The pleasant feeling in her body that had spread so fast from her skin to her heart to her toes lasted for but a moment and was instantly replaced by a much stronger, a much more powerful feeling that combined all her emotions into a raging storm inside her. In the distance, she saw a small village, surrounded by a high, wooden wall and mountains on every side, even though it was situated on a plain. White smoke arose from the center of the village. She had never seen the home of the Amazon Shampoo personally, but Ranma had told her enough about it for her to be able to recognize it immediately. And even though it was still a long way for her to reach the village itself, Akane remained standing there, hesitating what to do. What if Ranma was really living in that village? What should she tell him? What would they do? What if he wasn't there? What should she do?

Akane pushed the thought aside. 'What ifs' would not help her, she decided, and besides, she told herself, she had not even reached the village yet. She was still on her journey. She moved step by step, slowly at first, but gradually her steps became more and more determined, faster, until she jogged, even ran towards the village. To her, thoughts circling in her head and making her forget about her exhaustion, thoughts about her fiancé, about everything that had happened to her on her way to the Amazon's village, it seemed as if she was running for minutes, when in fact the sun set on China, slowly vanished on the horizon, tingeing the sky in a fiery red, her own name.

When she reached the high, wooden gate, she was greeted by two guardians. Dressed in festive, white robes, both equipped with a ceremonial lance that was decorated with pieces of cloth around the shaft and which formed an 'x' as they stopped her in her path, a sheathed sword that hung on their waist, and a silver-shining helmet that seemed to burn in the sun's afterglow, one of the soldiers seemed to ask her a question. Having learned some Chinese words on her way to China, she understood that they wanted to know who she was and what she was doing here. As a sign of submission and respect, Akane carefully placed her backpack on the ground and bowed to them.

"Akane Tendo," she said slowly in hope that one of them would understand her intentions, "and I am looking for Ranma Saotome."

Instead of responding to her, the two guards simply stood there, watching her, even though she could not make out their faces that were hidden under the helmet. For a long time, they stood there, facing each other and nobody uttering a single word, until one of the guards moved his lance almost imperceptibly, whereupon the second soldier nodded, and stepped into the village.

"Great, you can't understand a word I'm saying, can you?" Her question was not directed at the remaining guard, because it was not even a question. It was a statement that voiced her inner fears. All that for nothing? Her fear slowly gave way to anger, then fury, rage. She had waited long enough. She had been patient, but no more. She bit her lip to keep from shouting at the guard and alarming the village. "I'll be going into the village now. Try to stop me, but I'm a pretty decent fighter. I really don't want to invoke that whole 'kiss of death' thing, but I guess you're not a woman so that rule doesn't apply to you, so I'll beat you to a pulp if you try."

"As quick-tempered as ever, Akane Tendo," the watchman stated calmly in perfect Japanese, removed his helmet, and gracefully hid it under his robe, where he had always kept all of his weapons.

"Mousse?" Akane yelled in surprise as she recognized the man standing in front of her.

"Why so surprised? This is my home after all," he told her. "Why do you wish to see Ranma?"

Akane's heart skipped a beat. She had not guessed wrong. Ranma really resided here now and she became nervous. They had not seen each other in such a long time, and their parting had been rather unpleasant. What would he tell her? How could she face him? The young woman breathed in deeply to calm herself, as the second guard returned to his post and grumbled something incomprehensible to his comrade.

"You may come with me now," the black-haired martial artist with a thousand weapons up his sleeve offered her," but you'll have to tell me how you know one of our elders."

"One of your elders?" Akane repeated.

"Yes," Mousse nodded, "he arrived here with Shampoo about a month ago and quickly rose through the ranks to become an elder. It's a title that our society grants the strongest fighters. There hasn't been a single individual who managed to gain this title at such a young age in one hundred years. By the way, try to behave as festive as possible. It's Shampoo's big day today."

At this moment, the two martial artists reached the center of the village. Akane immediately stopped dead in her tracks and gazed around in astonishment. On the windowsills of the houses to her left, the most beautifully and diversely colored flowers bloomed as if competing with each other, while the white pavilion to her right was of a simple nature but adorned with magnificent Chinese paintings. An indefinite number of chairs led to the village square that was dominated by an old altar, before which a gate made entirely of exotic, blue flowers marked the division between spectators and participants of the ceremony. In the middle of the path stood an ancient stone well that told a tale of bygone but glorious generations. The people sitting on the chairs were as beautiful as the town itself. Most women more a white rob that highlighted their grace and female advantages and that was accompanied by golden jewelry, while most men also wore long robes that gave them the appearance of long forgotten kings.

Suddenly she saw him, and her breathing stopped, time stopped. She took a single step forward that seemed to take her forever, and then she stopped again. Her heart pumped the blood through her veins as fast as she had never experienced before and she could perceive her surroundings with a sharpness that almost frightened her. All of her senses were elated, and yet she had only eyes for the young man that stood next to a woman before the altar. His hair was shorter, and he wore a green robe with golden characters on it that she could not decipher.

The young woman did not know what to do. She wanted to run up to him, embrace him, beat him senselessly for his eternal stupidity, wanted to kiss him because she knew how she felt about him, but simultaneously she did not know what was happening, who the woman was, what they were doing, and what had happened during the last months. She did not know whether he would still fight the gods of the worlds for her sake, but she wanted to find out, wanted to know, until her fiancé hugged the woman next to him.

From seemingly nowhere and everywhere at the same time, the deafening noise of a single bell that was rung three times made all of the attendants turn around to the white pavilion. For a second, Ranma, who let his gaze wander, met the hazel eyes of a young woman he had never hoped to see here. He took a step forward towards her, feeling nothing but joy, until he saw her tears, saw her turn away from him, saw her watch the procession that was taking place at this exact moment, before she turned round to her former fiancé once more.

Shampoo slowly stepped down from the pavilion and gracefully moved towards the altar. She was dressed in a simple, flowing blue dress that was strapless and overlapped with her equally beautiful hair. On one of her fingers, a golden ring glimmered joyfully, and she radiated with nothing but pure happiness. Akane knew this feeling, this feeling of completeness, of happiness beyond measure, and there was only one time she had ever experienced it, one time that every woman emitted the same aura: In her wedding dress on her wedding day.

A single word escaped her lips as tears streamed down her face, before she turned around and wanted to leave, leave this damned village, leave this idiot, leave everything behind to travel back to her home, to go somewhere, anywhere, leave, leave and never come back.

"Why?"


End file.
